Wolf of the Alps
by j07121984a
Summary: Nathan Mahler's story. Set in the Dark Ages. Contains original characters. Rated M for violence and adult themes. Please read and review. Chapter 1 of the main story is up!
1. Prologue

With the weather cool, many people went for a walk, hoping to avoid the traffic that usually plagues New York. There was a sea of humanity in the streets, flowing in all directions. Even if each face had a place to go to, every step was a step towards the future. Whether it was for gaining something good, or it was for avoiding something bad, each step was a step full of hope. Some people just had more hope than others.

Nathan Mahler walked among the crowd, and each step he took was full of apprehension. He walked slowly because his mind was occupied with his memories. These were sad memories that nobody would want to remember. Unfortunately for him, forgetting them was just not possible, even if he drinks too much wine. Even more unfortunate for him, was history's habit of repeating itself.

Nathan looked around, and sighed. With the streets still full of people, it will be hard to get to his destination. It was a nice evening, and he didn't want to spend it sneaking around. Spotting a tavern in an alleyway, he decided to wait there for a bit.

As Nathan entered the bar, he noticed that it was empty. It didn't surprise him though, as it wasn't the type of bar that people frequent to meet other people. It felt more like the type of bar where old folks hang out and trade stories. It was too early for that, but he didn't mind the solitude. The bartender was usually the best listener and the best storyteller anyway.

Noticing Nathan, the bartender reached for the television. Just before he was supposed to turn it on, he looks at Nathan. Nathan shook his head in disapproval. The bartender stops, and walks towards his first patron, who was by now sitting on a barstool.

"Good evening. What will you be having?" asked the bartender.

Nathan took off the hat he was wearing and put it on the counter. "Do you have some red wine?"

"Sure we do." replied the bartender. He then got a bottle of wine, and removed the cork. Then he poured some wine into a wineglass. "You look like a guy who doesn't like old wine. Lucky for you the last bottle was empty so I had to open a new one."

Nathan took a sip of wine. "Thank you."

The bartender continued the conversation. "So, what brings you to New York? From the way you're dressed, you look like you're into theater." He was referring to Nathan's getup, which made Nathan look like a stereotypical reporter from several decades back.

"You could say that." replied Nathan. "I'm an actor in tragedies." He took another sip of wine.

"Aren't you afraid that you might be typecast into such a role?" asked the bartender. "Isn't it depressing to be acting in sad stories all the time?"

Nathan put down the glass. "It's not really my choice. I work with a dedicated director, and it's up to him to decide what type of play he wants."

"Well, you could try other kinds of stories." said the bartender.

"It's not my place to do that." continued Nathan. "Then again, who am I to complain? The lead actresses are the ones who bear most of the burden of the performance."

As the bartender was about to reply, another figure entered the tavern. It was a big man, taller and stockier than Nathan or the bartender. He also carried himself with an aggressive stance, not something you would expect from somebody going to a tavern. The mask made it clear that he was a robber. He pulled out a pistol, and pointed it at the bartender and Nathan.

"Give me the money!" yelled the robber.

The bartender kept his cool and cooperated. He went towards the cash register slowly, not wanting to surprise the robber into doing anything violent. Nathan could tell that the sangfroid was a facade, hearing the heartbeat of the bartender get faster. Taking another sip from his wine, he ignored the robber. Upon noticing that Nathan was ignoring him, the robber stomped towards Nathan.

Nathan frowned. The last thing that he wanted was to file a police report. That takes time, and he had other plans for the evening. He didn't want to show his true strength either. That would be anticlimactic, and that would probably give the bartender an aneurysm. Waiting for the right moment to act, he allowed the robber to get closer to him.

When the robber was just about to poke Nathan with the gun, Nathan stood up. Before the robber could react, Nathan grabbed the hand with the gun, putting one of his fingers in the trigger to prevent a misfire. With a flick of his wrist, he heard a pop, dislocating the wrist of the robber. Lastly, with his free hand, he jabbed the robber hard in the ribs, breaking two ribs.

The robber let go of the gun and dropped to the floor, but he didn't feel any pain yet. Only a few moments later did his face turn into a grimacing rictus. He had originally planned to be a little bit richer that night but instead, he was down on the ground, coughing out blood and screaming in pain.

Nathan didn't know the robber, but the scene looked familiar. Once again, he was standing over the bodies of his foes, albeit this time, his opponent was alive. He noticed that not much has changed with humans. Technology may have improved, but cries of pain still sounded the same. People still regarded those who are more powerful and different the same way as well. He looked down on the robber, who stared back at him with eyes full of fear.

Nathan didn't have time for this. He put the gun down on the counter, got his hat, and left five dollars under the gun. He then proceeded to head to the exit.

The bartender, who was obviously in awe of that display of martial arts prowess, suddenly realized Nathan was leaving. "Hey, don't you have to give your account to the police! A crime just happened!"

Nathan continued walking away. "A crime didn't happen. Tell the police that you beat the robber up." Then he smiled at the robber, his eye glinting at the dim light of the bar. "I'm sure he'll corroborate the story."

When Nathan got out of the tavern, he looked around again, and seeing as there were less people on the streets, started walking once more. From a distance he heard the police sirens, but he paid them no attention. He was pretty sure the bartender and the robber won't cause him trouble. Even if they did, he doubt the police would believe them as his performance was flawless, both unforgettable and indescribable. Besides, he has something else to do for the evening.

After a few blocks of walking, he saw a small flower shop. He went inside the store, and then began browsing the different blossoms on display. There were tulips and lilies but these did not suit his fancy. He called the attention of the attendant, a portly looking fellow who was bored with his duties. "Excuse me, but do you have any roses?"

The attendant replied to Nathan with a happy voice, clearly pleased that his monotony has been broken. "I think I still have some, sir. Still, it would have been much better if you got some earlier. It's a nice night and lots of people are going out on dates." He then knelt and began checking the refrigerator under the front shelf.

Nathan put down the bouquet he was holding and turned to the attendant. "Yes, I noticed. I myself have an appointment this evening."

Finished with finding the roses, the attendant stood up, and put five boxes on the front shelf. There were three blue roses, a red rose and a white rose. "You're in luck sir. I still have some left. They may not be as fresh as they were this morning, but hey, science works its wonders."

Nathan frowned slightly. He knew one such person who was a sacrifice for science. "Yes, quite."

The attendant looked concerned, worried that he might lose a potential customer. "Is anything the matter sir?"

Nathan smiled once more, putting the attendant at ease. "No. I just remembered something."

The attendant, looking relieved, suggested something to the florist. He was hoping to get a tip for extra service. "Well, since there are three blue roses, I could take them out of their boxes and make you a small bouquet?"

"No thank you. I'd like these three kept separately." said Nathan. He picked up two blue roses, and one red rose.

The florist smiled, looking clearly amused. "Quite the player are we sir? Well, it's none of my business really, but you shouldn't them meet each other. That'll just be trouble for you."

"No, that wouldn't be a problem. They've moved on already. How much are these." replied Nathan. He put the assumptions of the florist to rest.

The florist looked a bit disappointed. He had wanted to extend the conversation and get Nathan to buy more flowers. "That'll be around seven dollars sir."

Nathan took out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the attendant. "Here you go. Keep the change." He then started walking way.

The attendant looked very happy from receiving a big tip. "Thank you. Come back anytime sir. Have a good evening."

Nathan heard a familiar rhythm, a sound that once had been a important facet of his life. Facing the source of the sound, he saw a horse drawn carriage carrying a pair of tourists wide eyed at the many lights of New York City. As the carriage went disappeared in the depths of Central park, the canter of the horse filled him with nostalgia, carrying him back to a time when the concerns of immortality were not his.

XXXXXXXXXX

The smell of the horse, as well as subtle hints of pine and cedar filled Nathan's nostrils. His face was coated in sweat, as the humidity of forest, the heat of sun, and the confines of his helm combined to his discomfort. He ignored it though. As he approached the edge of the forest, he looked to his left and to his right and saw other knights, their armor shining from the streaks of sunlight seeping through the forest canopy. It filled him with pride, knowing that he was their leader.

Nathan paused as he reached the edge of the forest, and raised the visor of his helm to survey the plain before them. There was a village and a river after that. As he squinted, he saw columns of smoke rise from the village. With a quick poke of his spurs, his warhorse went from a stop to a gallop, and he charged towards the village, hoping to do battle with the unknown invaders that assailed it.

Nathan felt a sting when the sweat reached his eyes, but he kept them open. His ears rang with the thunderous sound of cavalry, but it sounded more like a distant whisper. His mind went blank, banishing the fear of death, leaving him purely in the moment. In that instance, with his left hand firmly on the reins of his warhorse, he grabbed his sword, pointed it to the burning village, and yelled a battle cry as loud as he could.

"DO YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER?"

* * *

Notes: 

Nobody's writing a Nathan story? Am I the only person who finds him cool?

Anyway, I took risks writing this fan fiction. First, I didn't use any of the popular characters from Blood+. I've been browsing a lot of the stories, and most of the possible story hooks have been covered. Second, I used a lot of original characters. It's really hard to develop multiple characters. Third, I used a historical setting. I've done a lot of research on it, but I can still make a mistake.

If you have anything you want to talk about, feel free to contact me. I worked hard on this story and I hope you guys like it. Please read and review.


	2. Chapter 1

Nathan's nudged his visor shut as the wave of man, mount and metal advanced towards the village. There were close to a hundred men in several divisions, all under the standard of the wolf. They had their weapons drawn, ready to crush any foe foolish enough to cross their path. Such a powerful sight would easily break the morale of lesser foes. Heavy cavalry relied not on stealth, but on magnificence, to win the day.

As they charged, many figures on horseback emerge from the village. Moving away from the village, and away from the knights, they headed to a different part of the plain. Nathan's knights followed, hot on their heels. "Don't let the cowards escape!" yelled Nathan.

Pursuing their foes gave them a sense of satisfaction. They are the proud sons of Austria, sent there as a vanguard by Duke Frederick II of Babenberg himself. Coming from the noble houses, they were trained in warfare and armed with the best weapons and armor. It was impossible for them to be defeated by this pathetic set of rabble.

The pursuit did not last long though, because their enemies suddenly stopped. With perfect precision, they turned their horses to face the Austrians. The Austrians, on the other hand, continued their advanced, convinced that their momentum will carry them to victory.

Nathan noticed that their foes did not draw any swords or axes. Instead, they seemed to be getting something from their backs. A few moments later, a shrill whistling pierced the otherwise riotous noise of the Austrian charge. Looking up, he saw small black lines in the sky. "Shields!" he shouted, realizing their situation.

The Austrians raised their shields when the arrows began to fall. In that hardest of rains, the battlefield reverberated with the sound of metal striking wood. Lucky for Nathan, neither he nor his horse got hit. A few of the other knights failed to place their shields properly, and received blows to their extremities. The horses were the ones that bore the brunt of the attack though, for despite being armored, they were simply too big.

Many injured horses fell, throwing their riders into the air or tripping other nearby knights. As much as the Austrians wanted to stop and check on their injured comrades, each one of them knew that they should first defeat the enemy. There would be enough time for the wounded later. For now, anyone left behind would be considered fallen, spurring those that still ride to vengeance.

The discipline of the Austrian took the enemy by surprise. They had tried to fire a final volley, wasting too much time. Now, the knights were a few paces in front of them. Many turned their horse around, hoping to make a quick getaway. Instead, they exposed their backs, a fatal mistake on the battlefield.

Nathan himself led the fray, and he swung his sword at the first enemy that was in his range. His well aimed strike hit the ribs of his target. As he was used to fighting foes wearing mail, his powerful slash cut through the trivial resistance studded leather could offer. Another knight lunged forward, viciously stabbing with his lance. The weapon hit just under the left shoulder blade, going through the whole body. A few of their opponents stood their ground and tried to defend themselves with their bows, or drew their daggers. Both weapons were poor matches for swords and lances.

The air was filled with the sound of combat, a discordant combination of yells, moans, and the clash of iron. The ground was littered with broken arrows, discarded weapons, and the corpses of the fallen. In the chaos of the battlefield, any semblance of humanity disappears, where men become something else. To such creatures, power is the only truth, and in this case, the might of the Austrians was prevailing.

The Austrians were used to hand to hand combat, while their enemies had difficulty shooting arrows in the chaos of the melee. Those that did draw their daggers found their blows somewhat impotent against the armor of the knights. Which such odds, a small group of four broke away from the battle, intent on escaping the slaughter.

Despite being deep in the melee, Nathan noticed this splinter group leaving. Normally, seeing four enemies escaping would be of little consequence, but he noticed that one of the individuals wore ornate armor. That person was an officer, and capturing him would bring Nathan much glory. With a slash from his sword, he dispatched his current opponent and began to pursue the group.

The officer in the breakaway looked back to make sure they were not being followed. Seeing a pursuer, he waved his hand, and all three of his personal bodyguards turned around. They headed towards Nathan, one on his left and two on his right, both groups keeping away from him, knowing of his skill in close quarters. While Nathan was still far away, they drew their bows and began peppering him with arrows.

The situation didn't faze Nathan. It just made his blood sing with excitement. The ecstasy put him a trance like state, and the moment expanded into what felt like eons. This is when legends are born!

Nathan looked up, and upon seeing the arrows already in flight, got his horse to sprint harder for a few seconds, veering to his left, leaving all the arrows to fall harmlessly behind him. The bodyguard to his left saw him, and shot an arrow directly at the Austrian. Nathan just blocked it with his shield, and continued his run towards the bodyguard.

The other two bodyguards hesitated to shoot, afraid that they might hit their comrade. Taking advantage of their indiscretion, Nathan swung his shield as he passed the lone bodyguard, its edge hitting his opponent in the right arm. The cavalry archer lost his balance and corkscrewed off his horse, landing on his neck. After the initial tumble, the body remained motionless.

Seeing Nathan between them and their leader, the other two bodyguards redoubled their efforts in running after the Austrian. When they caught up, they went parallel to Nathan's right, one in front of the other, allowing them to shoot without fear of crossfire. Despite their skill with the bow, none of their many shots landed.

Defending the right side with the shield on a left hand was not possible, even for Nathan. It made riding unsafe, and it made attacking with the sword difficult. With no other option, he had to defend himself with his sword. The battle trance made him feel like anything is possible, and in many ways, it did make anything possible. With timing rarely seen in that era, he parried the arrows with the flat side of his sword.

Seeing the surprise of the bodyguards, Nathan took the opportunity to attack. He pulled close to the forward bodyguard, who noticed him approaching. As the cavalry archer drew his bow, Nathan slashed with his sword, cutting the bow in two. When the bodyguard tried to pull away, Nathan struck again, his sword cutting deep into the shin. The trailing bodyguard took advantage of the Nathan's preoccupation with his partner, and fired an arrow. Luckily for Nathan, it only grazed his shoulder.

Nathan felt a small sting to his side, but he ignored it for now. He and the forward bodyguard approached each other once again, with Nathan wielding a sword and the bodyguard readying a dagger. The bodyguard pulled in close, and stabbed with the dagger, hoping to disembowel the Austrian. Nathan avoided the attack, but his opponent was now too close that it was hard to swing or stab with the long sword. Nathan then began clubbing his opponent with the pommel of his sword. The bodyguard stabbed again, this time landing a good blow on Nathan's back. In retribution, Nathan struck his opponent with a powerful blow, and the bodyguard tumbled from his horse.

The bodyguard fell from his horse, yelling a curse in some unknowable foreign tongue. The trailing bodyguard, unable react in time, trampled his companion, with two sick sounding crunches as the horse stepped on an arm and the back. Nathan watched as the remaining bodyguard looked back at his companion. Nathan then attacked, swinging his sword, its tip hitting the neck of the bodyguard.

Dropping his bow, the bodyguard gripped his neck in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. As his blood flowed out of him, he stared at Nathan. There was no ill will in that stare, only fear. Looking at the bodyguard, Nathan wondered if his dying opponent feared either him or death, secretly hoping that he was regarded with more terror. This odd exchange of looks lasted for a moment, until the bodyguard finally sagged on his horse, which continued to run, despite the loss of it rider.

Nathan looked forward at the officer, who was now a good distance away. He thought of continuing the pursuit, but two sharp pains drove that idea off. Looking at his shoulder and grabbing his back, he realized that he was bleeding. Looking back, he saw that he was far away from the main battle where his fellow knights were finishing off the invaders. Raising his sword, he shouted his displeasure, not caring if the officer understood him or not. Then he turned around, and rode back to his fellow knights.

XXXXXXXXXX

The battle was already over by the time Nathan returned, and the Austrians welcomed their leader back. Seeing his shoulder, they asked him if he was seriously hurt. Ignoring their queries, he divided the knights to into three groups. One group he sent to collect the fallen knights, another group he sends to check on those knights who were thrown from their horses and the last group went with him to the village. They still have to check it, and they also need to rest for a bit. Some parts of it may be burning, but it was better than being in the open.

They arrived at the village to a scene that was unlike any on Earth. The smoke from the burning cottages settled in the pathways like an acrid fog. It smelled horrible, choking their lungs and obscuring their vision. Everything was completely silent, save for the sounds they themselves were making and the cackling of the fire. In fact, many of the knights would have preferred the frightened squealing of livestock compared to this eerie stillness.

Suddenly there was a sound of a crumbling masonry. The knights turned towards the sound, their weapons drawn, ready to defend themselves. Instead of finding enemies, they found an elderly couple hugging small children, hiding in an animal pen, survivors of whatever happened to the village. Nathan approached them, wanting to ask questions. When he tried to push his visor open, it refused to budge.

"Damn this newfangled experimental helm." muttered Nathan, as he took the helm off. "I am Sir Nathan Mahler of the Austrian Knights. Tell me what happened here." said Nathan. He looked down on the survivors from his horse, his face stern.

The old man relaxed when he heard where Nathan was from. "Oh thank god! Tartars mi lord!" replied the old man, his voice full of trauma.

"Tartars?" said Nathan. "Who are they and why did they raze your village?" He continued asking questions, wanting to learn as much as he can of this new foe.

The old man continued. "They wanted us to give them all our food. They said they had a right to it, as servants of the great Kahn. Then some of the younger men resisted. Mi lord..."

Nathan cut the old man off. "What of the other villagers? Tell me what became of them?"

"The Tartars, in their rage, butchered everyone! Men, women, children! Even the animals, mi lord! Then they heaped all the bodies, into the biggest cottages, and then set it on fire! We have to leave this place!" said the old man, his voice full of fear. The children were hugging the elderly couple tightly now.

With that remark, one of the knights rode to the nearest burning cottage. Destroying the barred window with his lance, he peered into the building. Seeing the burning bodies, he recoiled in disgust. "The old man speaks the truth Sir Nathan! Those charlatans have murdered everyone!"

A commotion rose from the ranks of the Austrians. Many of them began cursing the barbarity of these Tartars while some began lamented the loss of life, and a few of the braver ones began making vows of vengeance. The hushed whispering and the angry tones made the children more afraid, and they hugged the old couple even tighter. Nathan silenced his companions, allowing the old man to continue.

"We must leave now mi lord! We must warn the King!" said the old man.

"We will, in due time. Is there a well in this village?" replied Nathan, ignoring the dire urgency in the grandfather's voice. He was looking around the village now.

"But mi lord!" protested the old man. "We must warn the king!"

"Hold your tongue!" retorted Nathan angrily. "We just came from a battle where we killed the barbarians that did this to your village. Our horses are tired, and we have wounded to tend to. Now, is there a well in this village?" He looked down on the old man, with an air of superiority in his eyes.

The children braced because Nathan's angry words. While comforting them, the old man looked up at Nathan, his eyes shaky, clearly chaffing from Nathan's words. "Forgive me mi lord. The well is over there around the corner."

"We shall head to Pest as after a short rest. Do not fear, serf, we are more than capable of handling the Tartars." replied Nathan. He then led a few other knights to the well, to draw water.

While riding to the well, Nathan watched the remaining knights bringing back the injured and the fallen. Though they had completely annihilated the Tartar force, he still lost a several comrades. It wasn't even a battle that could change history. Their death was a waste, and now the survivors have to worry about bringing their bodies back to the duchy.

Reaching the well, Nathan got off his horse, and began to draw water. The well was in an area facing the river. While drawing water, Nathan felt as though he was being watched. He turned to the river and noticed two cloaked figures among the tall cattails in the marshes. Squinting, he noticed one figure was walking, and the other one was standing still and looking at them. The figure saw him staring back, turned, and caught up with the other one.

"Sir Nathan, do you see something? Are the enemies?" asked one of the other knights, noticing Nathan looking at the distant marches.

"If they are, then we'll just have to kill them." replied Nathan.

* * *

Notes: 

After several proofreading sessions, I'm finally finished!

Well, here is the violence I was talking about. I've also given enough clues about the historical setting.

Writing a battle scene is hard! It's easy to imagine it as a comic or a cartoon, but writing about it while maintaining a coherent point of view is challenging. I hope I was up to it. Personally, I have issues regarding the scene where Nathan and the two bodyguards are fighting on horseback. I just can't shake the feeling that I used the word "bodyguard" too much.

Please read and review, and don't hesitate to contact me if you have any questions. I've updated my profile so you can email me.


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